


i say i'll erase you but i can't let you go

by preciousuga (alexscarlet)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bad Parenting, Depression, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan-centric, Mental Health Issues, donghyuck is my sunshine baby:(, i forgot 2 mention that sorry pals!, renjun is supportive and wonderful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexscarlet/pseuds/preciousuga
Summary: there’s always that immediate kinship between kids with shitty parents.





	i say i'll erase you but i can't let you go

donghyuck is sitting on the floor of his bedroom with a bottle of rosé in hand when renjun arrives. the bottle is more than half-empty. renjun bites his lip in concern.

 

(donghyuck only messaged renjun to see if he was free about twenty minutes ago, but his lightweight ass has already scarfed down half a bottle.)

 

(donghyuck never drinks alone; because drinking always amplifies what you’re feeling and donghyuck doesn’t trust himself enough for that.)

 

(donghyuck has known, ever since he discovered the art of being drunk, that he likes being drunk a little too much. prefers drunk donghyuck, with his confidence and his ease and his flirting, more than sober donghyuck. a _lot_ more than sober donghyuck.)

 

“hyuck.” renjun tries not to sigh, or maybe cry. he throws his hastily-packed bag into the corner of the room.

 

despite the softness of his tone, donghyuck flinches. “how did you get in?”

 

“you weren’t answering the door.” renjun replies, tugging hyuck’s favourite faded-orange blanket off his bed and wrapping himself up in it. there’s a candle lit on the windowsill. the window itself is shut tight against the outside cold, but renjun shivers nonetheless. “and the doorbell is broken, so i had to text heejin to let me in.” he commandeers hyuck’s desk chair. there’s a textbook open on the desk itself, but renjun knows, with a terrible sort of certainty, that donghyuck hasn’t looked at it except to torture himself.

 

when he looks back down at the lump on the floor, he catches the tail end of donghyuck’s guilt - the shifting of a heavy and constant presence below the surface - before his friend swallows and takes another sip of wine. “sorry. my phone is on, uh. silent.” renjun pulls his legs up and rests his head on his knees, the blanket soft in between knee and cheek. “sorry.” donghyuck says again.

 

“that’s ok.” renjun says quietly, before donghyuck can say it a third time. donghyuck opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but nothing forms on the dark of his tongue. he closes his mouth again.

 

renjun desperately wants to confront him, but he’s scared.

 

“the candle smells nice.”

 

donghyuck waits a moment for his shrugging tic to stop before he focuses on the candle. “you can smell it better when you go out and come back in. it’s a lot fainter for me, since i’ve got used to it, but it does smell nice. lilies and fresh laundry, apparently. it’s funny, i guess, the laundry part, since i haven’t changed my sheets in five weeks.” donghyuck blinks, suddenly, like he didn’t mean to share that information. he blinks again, and then he’s ticcing again; in between blinks he sees donghyuck’s eyes rolling in their sockets.

 

“laundry’s fucked up.” renjun replies, just as donghyuck takes another huge gulp of wine.

 

donghyuck makes a choking noise, hurries to swallow his mouthful before laughing, loudly. he throws his head back and his eyes crinkle up, and renjun can’t _not_ laugh along.

 

when they finally calm down, donghyuck offers renjun the bottle. it’s kind of warm, and way too sweet, in the way that cheap rosés are, but renjun takes a couple of sips anyway.

 

“should i-“

 

“hyuck-“ renjun breathes in sharply. “you go first.”

 

donghyuck looks at the bottle still in renjun’s hand with a kind of desperate longing. renjun’s fingers tighten around the neck. “i was gonna ask if i should put on some music. i made a new playlist on spotify recently. lots of 80s stuff. s’funny how gay people love 80s music, isn’t it?”

 

renjun hesitates, then offers: “it makes you feel good, doesn’t it? and you can sing along.” he runs a hand through his hair. “before you…play that.” donghyuck squints at his face, looking so terribly apprehensive; like he knows exactly what’s coming and would rather be anywhere else on the planet. but if he really wanted that, he wouldn’t be letting renjun stay in the room with him, so renjun holds fiercely onto his frustration and worry. he won’t back down, even faced with those big doe eyes. he manages to blurt out: “hyuck, what’s wrong?”

 

donghyuck smiles, kind of tight around the eyes. “i’m just having, y’know, a bit of a rough time at the moment. it’s ok.”

 

renjun hugs the wine, feels his forehead furrowing, “but _why_ hyuck? why are you having a rough time? stop…stop dismissing me.”

 

donghyuck’s smile falters. “what do you mean ‘why’? it just…happens sometimes. and i’m not _dismissing_ you. i appreciate everything you do for me, renjun, i’m-“

 

“save the…the award speech, donghyuck, i’m not interested.” renjun’s voice comes out all pinched and angry and he can see the way donghyuck shuts down even more at the sound of it. he takes a deep breath. “i’m not angry at you, hyuck, it’s just that i want you to actually talk to me.”

 

“ok but-“ donghyuck cuts himself off, looks around for another drink before realising renjun’s still clinging to the wine bottle. “could you give me that?”

 

renjun frowns, “not until you talk to me.”

 

“for fuck’s sake!” renjun jumps as donghyuck lashes out, legs kicking, body twitching, voice half-growl, half-wail, “i’m trying to talk to you, ok? i just- fuck!” he kicks his leg again, slams his head back against his mattress. “i can’t do it when i’m sober. i just can’t. stop-”

 

“you’re not sober, hyuck.”

 

donghyuck’s hands erupt into frantic movement, messing up his hair, scratching up his thigh, tugging at his shirt. when he speaks again its like each word has to be forcefully drawn from him. “i know. i know, ok? but, junnie, i’m not feeling drunk either. at least, not drunk enough. i’m… at that point where i say things i wouldn’t usually, followed by feeling super anxious afterwards cos im not yet drunk enough to ignore the consequences. it’s like.” donghyuck’s chest is heaving and he makes a conscious effort to breathe. “it’s the worst part, ok. i’m in the worst part. just. give me the bottle.”

 

renjun uncurls enough to extract the bottle from his embrace, and passes it over. then he closes back up, tucked under hyuck’s blanket, like a clam.

 

donghyuck drinks so quickly he almost spills it down himself.

 

“my mum. texted.” he says, when he’s nearly finished the bottle, a sudden stillness upon him. staring down at the old carpet.

 

renjun tugs the blanket up over his shoulders, wondering what he should say. he settles on: “ah”.

 

“she was-“ donghyuck swallows thickly, “worried about me.” renjun winces internally. “since i haven’t been replying to her messages, cos, y’know. they make me wanna die.” he tips the bottle to the side, eyes what little is left in it, then looks up to meet renjun’s eyes. “im doing better, they don’t _really_ make me wanna die, i just-“

 

renjun’s chest feels tight with the sinking feeling of recognition because, fuck, he gets it. he knows what donghyuck is feeling right now, or at least he knows better than most. after all, everyone is different and processes things differently and has different situations; but still there’s that immediate, deeply-felt kinship between kids with shitty parents.

 

“so, i phoned her,” donghyuck continues, “because i didn’t want her to-“ he cuts himself off, choking up, the hand not wrapped around the bottle neck shaking. “i don’t want her to feel sad. i still don’t want her to feel sad, or worried, or…hurt. i don’t wanna hurt her, even after all the ways she’s hurt me, what sort of fucked up-?”

 

he takes the penultimate sip of wine. renjun feels this weird urge to laugh, so he does, and donghyuck’s head snaps up to look at him and then they’re both laughing; the sort of taut laughter that vibrates with compressed and concentrated agony.

 

“what did she say?” renjun asks, still smiling a little. he cracks his neck once, the snap muffled by the room. when he focuses his eyes back on donghyuck’s face, regret swells in his stomach because donghyuck has that look; the look that comes from having so much self-hatred, so much _hurt_ inside you that it turns into corrupted energy, into fury. and it was probably the laughter that unleashed it. the gravitational field around a mass of hurt has a way of distorting laughter into something bad.

 

donghyuck’s mouth twists into a sneer, “she said, you know, the usual. kept calling me ‘haechan’, but that’s like, whatever. ‘haechan, have you done this? no? i can’t believe i have to remind you of these things at your age. haechan, i should be able to rely on you. aren’t you ashamed? you’re so awful, it makes me sad’ _._ ” donghyuck’s smirk disintegrates the longer he remembers; a grimace and then something close to pure exhaustion. “i’ve mentioned to you before that she makes assumptions, about…about everything. what i’m thinking, why i do stuff. and she just…” he leans his head back against the edge of the mattress, voice tight and breathy. “she always thinks the worst of me?”

 

he sits up suddenly, looks at renjun. “like, is that how you see me? you really think i’m that rude and awful and insensitive and unkind and-“ his voice breaks, eyes closing. renjun barely catches the whispered, “maybe she’s right.”

 

renjun clears his throat, “hyuckie, she’s not right-“

 

“no,” donghyuck interrupts, “i _know_ she shouldn’t say it, because parents shouldn’t, but there’s probably more truth there than i want to admit.” he smiles helplessly. “i can’t help but believe her.”

 

it makes renjun sigh because he gets it. god, he gets it.

 

“… ‘how are you this selfish? how can you possibly expect people to care about you? if you’re this awful, why should people help you? you just use everyone’ _._ ” donghyuck finishes the last sip, keeps holding onto the bottle so he can run a thumb around the rim of it, round and round and round. “‘i know im having a go at you, but you-’ you deserve it.” donghyuck’s shoulders slump. “you _know_ you’re wrong. you know that you’re an embarrassment. that you’re-“

 

“hyuck-“

 

“no, no, wait, it’s a _new_ one!” donghyuck laughs, then flinches, his whole body shrinking into itself. “sorry. sorry, i’m ranting and- i’m being bad.” his bottom lip trembles.

 

renjun unfurls, clambers off the chair and slips over to sit in between donghyuck’s legs. he opens his arms and donghyuck hesitates then lets himself fall forward against renjun’s chest. _safe, safe, you’re safe_ , renjun thinks, somewhat desperately, as he clings to his best friend tightly, so tightly that he can feel his own fingers going numb. every shudder of donghyuck’s ribcage echoes through his.

 

“you’re _not_ being bad.” he says, and when donghyuck moves as if he’s about to protest, renjun scowls against donghyuck’s hair and repeats it. “you’re not being bad, hyuck. come on, tell me.” they separate. at some point during the hug they must have rearranged themselves because now donghyuck is sitting in renjun’s lap, on his crossed legs, his own legs wrapped tight around renjun’s waist.

 

donghyuck keeps his eyes fixed on the sheep stitched on the front of renjun’s sweater. there’s an ache that weighs heavily on his lungs, making it hard to breathe, but he keeps talking despite that; in spite of it. he has to keep talking, otherwise it’ll just be stuck up in his head on repeat.

 

he was silent about everything for years and now that he’s started - started confiding - he can’t stop. it’d hurt too much.

 

so he swallows around the lump in his throat, traces the sheep on renjun’s chest with his fingertips, and mumbles, “she says i make her angry. and make dad angry. and then they fight, and it’s my fault.” he flattens his palm on renjun’s chest. “she said ‘i’m angry because of you so i’m going to end up arguing with your father and it’s all your fault’, and it was clearly implying that i…hurt everyone.”

 

renjun closes his eyes. hyuck’s hand slips from renjun’s chest and they hold hands instead. a pocket of warmth in between their palms. it’s calming, soothing. hyuck’s fingers tighten briefly.

 

“dad got on the phone briefly. told me he’s gonna give up on me if i keep fucking up.” renjun wants to cry, hot tears of frustration. it’s no secret that hyuck’s prone to making mistakes - doesn’t everyone? - but it’s also well-known that his anxiety disorder is the cause. or the catalyst, at least. it’s not an excuse, it’s an _explanation_.

 

“he pulled the ‘we’re just trying to help because we love you’ card. nice end to the phone call.”

 

“oh, hyuck.” renjun manages, pulling donghyuck back into a hug, tucking him under his chin. renjun struggles to find the right words, casts out desperately for the right words of comfort, and finally he lands upon: “you’re not a bad person, baby. you’re not a bad friend, you’re not a bad child, you’re not a bad person. you’re not an embarrassment. you’re not selfish. you’re not-“

 

donghyuck interrupts, voice watery and strained, and slightly muffled by renjun’s sweater. “i am selfish, junnie.”

 

renjun strokes donghyuck’s hair, “shhh. well, everyone’s a bit selfish, hm? i think it’s part of the human condition. but it doesn’t define you, ok? if i’m thinking of words to describe you, i wouldn’t use selfish.”

 

donghyuck’s hands cling tighter to the back of renjun’s jumper.

 

donghyuck’s voice is always soft. even when he’s being a loud, annoying brat, even when he’s pranking everyone and cackling in between every sentence, smiling smugly from the warmth of stolen jackets or in the shade of stolen sunnies; even then, his voice is lilting and soft around the edges. maybe it’s his lisp. maybe it’s his vocal cords. maybe it’s just the sort of person donghyuck is.

 

but it’s rarely as tiny as this. shaking and fragile, like the smallest gust of wind could steal his voice away forever.

 

“what words w-would you use to describe me?”

 

renjun hums softly, fondly. of course hyuck would ask. he wouldn’t have, two years ago. maybe even last year. but now he _does_ ask.

 

and renjun answers.

 

(and maybe the answers make hyuck cry harder, but that’s ok.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading. if ur parents are shitty i hope u have a renjun in your life to hold your hand as you recover from them. 
> 
> comments n kudos keep an author going;;


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